#lord burghley

[captainsamta]

I was trying to redraw a scene from Elizabeth I (2005) but I think I went overboard

[royalty-nobility]

A Procession of Queen Elizabeth I

Artist: After Robert Peake the Elder (English, c. 1551–1619)

Date: 1800-1840

Medium: Oil on panel

Collection: Manchester Art Gallery, Manchester, United Kingdom

Description

Procession of Queen Elizabeth I and her court through the centre of a town. The Queen is in a canopy chair of state in the centre, carried by six gentlemen. Several Knights of the Garter, distinguished by their collars, walk before the Queen, her ladies in waiting following behind to the right. The Yeomen of the Guard follow, and a band of gentlemen pensioners line the way. Amongst the Knights of the Garter, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester is nearest the Queen, and Henry Lord Hernoden carries the Sword of State before her. As those knights walk two and two, the next is William Cecil, Lord Burghley, Lord High Treasurer, with his white staff in hand. Next before him is Charles Howard, Admiral, afterwards Lord Nottingham. The other three Knights of the Garter, Lords Clinton (George Clifford, 3rd Earl of Cumberland and Queen's Champion), Russel and Sussex as those before mentioned, each of them having a ribbon about his neck with a small gem or intaglio appendant to it.

[filmjunky-99]

e l i z a b e t h i, 2005 📺 dir. tom hooper

[scribeartistjo-tan]

For being the youngest member of the group, Mat sure is good at playing old guys.

[shakespearenews]

Elizabetha Anglorum, id est a intore Angelorum Regina

This manuscript, a unique specimen of dramatic composition by Queen Elizabeth, represents the only surviving piece of stage property from the Elizabethan theater. It was passed from player to player during the great Theobalds Entertainment of 1591, and it is the only surviving original manuscript of any part of that Entertainment.

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

I have to say the only thing I don’t like about “Young Bess” by Margaret Irwin is that it has a Thomas Seymour/Elizabeth Tudor romance, and ugh it’s written pretty well but idk while you see a bit of transition from 13-15 and that Elizabeth herself acknowledges she knew Thomas since she was a child, how does a relationship like that translate to romance? I don’t get it? Does it just happen?

Anyway this was written in 1944 and since there is a film called “Young Bess” with the same romance though a lot of inaccuracy, I’m only gonna presume Thomas Seymour/Elizabeth Tudor was popular back then, and people probably though Thomas Seymour was Elizabeth’s love of her life.

Pfft yeah right.

I’m sad there’s no Robert Dudley or William Cecil in this book, or at least not much. I think William Cecil was mention like 1 or 2 times in passing as a councilor serving the Duke of Somerset. It was cool to see Robert’s dad John Dudley though, and the intrigues between him and the Seymour brothers.

[good-queen-bess]

ARMADA: INVASION ~ a Story by Good-Queen-Bess (aka me) -- PART 1

Hey, fellow Queens! Whether you were waiting for this or not, I’ve finished some important scenes in this story, so I thought I should be able to start posting it here! :) :D I don’t know if there’ll be a pattern to how frequently I’ll post this, but anyway, here it is! As much as I adore writing, I’m going through one of those phases where my creativity/writing skill is rather awful or drained (not exactly writer’s block, but I suppose it’s something similar…) Before I post the story, I wish to make clear that this is a strictly artistic interpretation on how Queen Elizabeth I may have personally dealt with the Spanish Armada. I have tried to keep it at least somewhat historically accurate, when it comes to writing something of this genre (even though that’s pretty difficult)… Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it…! ^.^ 

INVASION: ARMADA

JULY 1588 LONDON, ENGLAND

I was sitting in my office when I was informed of the news. Dinner had finished only half an hour ago. I sat at my mahogany desk, pen in hand, allowing the pen to dance fervently between my fingers. I was resting my head heavily in my other hand, absent-mindedly furrowing my brow in deep contemplation. My advisor, Lord Burghley, had suggested that I should dance more often to keep my mind off of things. I heeded his word. I had finished dancing about five minutes ago.

I didn’t usually dance so soon after eating, but something deep down was nagging at me. The niggling feeling had begun at about five o'clock this afternoon, and as time passed by, it grew worse and worse. Robert, who was sticking around court a lot more frequently these days (and understandably so. I would question his motives otherwise), noticed that I wasn’t acting quite right. Apparently I had been deathly silent for most of the evening. I didn’t think I was, but, then again, my internal monologue was deafening me, so of course I wasn’t going to realise it… He had been trying his best to cheer me up by cracking jokes and attempting to sing duets. He had given out to me for not singing the female response lines. I countered his argument by retorting sharply, reminding him that we weren’t courting anymore (I felt a slight element of guilt ripple through my stomach after saying it, but decided against apologising at that point). So, as a compromise, Robert offered to dance with me, and I accepted.

Robert was standing over by the corner in the opposite side of the room, muttering to himself after Cecil made a snide comment directed towards him. I was about to scold the two men for acting like petulant children, but then the doors of my office flew open. We all jolted from fright. A messenger burst into the office, panting heavily.      "YOUR MAJESTY!“ He doubled over slightly, trying his utmost to catch as much breath as possible so he could speak coherently. "King Philip’s…Spanish…ships…have been sighted…ah, Jesus…gimme a sec…have been sighted…off the coast of…Christ…off the coast of…the Lizard. I ran here as fast as I could.” His final sentence was almost like a whisper. He gasped for more air, still bent over. He looked up at me again. “I threw myself off the post horse I was riding with the news. Knocked a few rich lookin’ fellas over in the hallways back there. You can tell them I said sorry. I already did and tried to explain it was urgent as I was running, but they either didn’t seem to understand me or believe me. God, I think I’ve pulled a muscle.”      "Oh, need a woman’s touch, do we?“ Robert insolently and condescendingly commented, now standing in a haughty stance.      I glowered at him. "Robert!”      Robert shrugged defensively, as if he were innocent of something. “What?” He then flicked some dirt out from underneath his middle fingernail. “Just saying what everyone else was thinking…”

I bit down on my smile of laughter. I turned my attention back to the allegedly injured messenger. I got him a chair to sit on and bent down ever so slightly to look at him better.      "And are you certain that this is the real thing?“ I asked, speaking about the invasion. "It isn’t some practical joke again?”      "One hundred per cent certain, madam. The first beacons were set alight early this afternoon, Your Highness. Everyone made sure that it wasn’t a joke. They’re really coming, Your Majesty.“

I stood up straight. I looked at Robert and then at Cecil.      "Alright,” I began. “You know what that means. Call the rest of the Council here immediately. We are going to have a few emergency meetings from now on…” I returned my gaze to the messenger and smiled at him. “Thank you for your diligent hard work. You and your fellow colleagues shall be rewarded for your trouble.”

I excused myself and walked into a smaller connecting room alone. I closed the door quietly behind me. I leaned up against the door, tempted to slide down it and crawl into a ball. I stayed standing, though I wasn’t sure how. I had lost all feeling in my limbs. I could feel my heart beginning to race, beating and galloping violently at an uncontrollable pace. I looked down and saw that my hands were clenched into tight fists. I was shaking. I was shaking everywhere. I let out a nervous laugh of disbelief. I suddenly noticed that my face was wet. Tears were streaming out of my eyes, soaking my cheeks and leaving a salty taste on my lips. I fought back the rest of them, blinking furiously. I took an unsteady breath and inhaled deeply.

Hold for three, let go for three. Fuck it, hold for five and let it all out.

I inhaled and exhaled several times, their durations varying in length. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I refused to believe this was happening. After all of this time and planning and secret panicking, it was truly happening. I managed to calm myself down after another few minutes. I was still shaking, and I was still experiencing my involuntary and anoetic silent sobbing, but it was not so starkly uncontrollable as it was before. I looked up at the heavens above me.

“God, if you’re listening to this – well, if there is a God; if you truly exist, that is; and I know you do – …please be on our side. Not for my sake, – though I do fear what may happen to me after the Spa– if the Spanish invade and conquer – but be on our side for the sake of my people. Our people. I cannot bear to live with the thought that some innocent bystander will have their final sight being the imposing image of the barrel of a Spanish gun staring them down. I cannot live with the idea that a little boy teaching his younger sister how to count to ten would be dragged out of his home and be beaten to death or be thrown into the river because their home just happens to be in the invaders’ way. I cannot continue if I must have the image of my soldiers dying lying on my conscience before they have the chance to return home to their wives and newborn children.

"I can’t let myself live if a young maid is captured and raped on my English soil, solely because her existence ‘provoked’ a Spanish soldier. I cannot call myself a Queen if a single mother is torn away from her child for the sake of escaping Spanish invaders in an allegedly safe manner. I am not a worthy ruler if a homeless man on the street is kicked to death because he was a mere obstacle in the way of those intruders!

"So please, do not guide us to victory for my sake, but for England’s sake. I pray that I am a worthy safeguard to protect her from invasion. Do whatever you must in order for us to win. Let the winds bellow with beastly ferocity; let the waves roll and roar; let the rains pour down from the heavens; let the thunder boom and crackle throughout the blackened skies; let the lightning flash and strike any foreign ship that comes ten yards within our English waters!” My voice was beginning to break with emotion. I shut my eyes tightly and continued to speak. “Because if I must die with England, then I want me and my country to go down in flames, so that no-one may ever find us again and disturb our peace!” At this point I realised that I was roaring with frustrated fear. I had never felt such a mixture of emotional anger so intensely in my entire life before.

I suddenly felt a fluttering feeling in my stomach. A quick wisp of energy shivered up my spine and resonated throughout my whole body. I felt that I was powerful enough to kill a man with a mere glance of my eyes. I gruffly wiped the angry tears away, spun around and swung the doors open. I stormed through the chamber and down the hallway, heading for the quaint, little meeting room that I knew was going to be too small – and certainly overcrowded – with all of my Councillors in it.

Chaos ensued the hallways. It was a strange sense of chaos. It was a silent form of chaos. The servants quickly moved aside, staring and holding their gaze on me as I blazed by. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion. I didn’t expect it to be like this, when this inevitable time came. Nothing was verbally exchanged between anyone, but there seemed to be this unspoken understanding amongst everyone. Everyone seemed to understand what news had been delivered. We all knew that the time we had all hoped would never come, had in fact arrived. Nothing could be heard in those hallways except the fast-paced and strong click-clacking of my shoes against the stone floor, occasionally echoing in a menacing tone.

I had dismissed my ladies-in-waiting earlier that day, and I was now glad I had done so. I didn’t want them to be anywhere near me at this time. They wouldn’t have recognised me. I pushed the heavy doors of the meeting room open. Five Councillors were already crowding around a table that had a map splayed out on top of it. They looked up at me, locking their eyes with mine. Some mouths would open, but no words came out. Nothing needed to be said. We all knew why we were in that cramped little meeting room. I approached the mapped table.      "Gentlemen, it is time.“ I looked around. "Where’s Leicester?”      "He’s moved off to Tilbury, Your Majesty,“ one of the Councillors quietly responded.      I rolled my eyes and tutted loudly, shaking my head in annoyance. "Stupid man – he was meant to stay until you were all briefed!”      "Please contain yourself, Your Majesty,“ Lord Burghley soothed. "We all know why he went there. Besides, you were going to staton him there, anyway, so there isn’t any need to fret or rile Your Highness’ self up. We can always send a messenger to him with news of our plans from this meeting.”      I took another breath to cancel out any anger that was burning up inside. I looked at Burghley. “Yes, I know, my lord, but I just don’t like the idea of classified information being given to someone like a messenger. Who knows, the messenger might leak the information. To whom, I know not, but more than likely to someone other than just Leicester!”      Burghley rested a hand on my back in an effort to calm me. “Then we shall write down the plans and have a messenger who can’t read deliver the letter, unbeknownst of what lies in its contents.”      I grunted. Finding an illiterate messenger these days was like trying to find a married woman who was still a virgin. Burghley should have known that. In fact, I knew he knew that; he was just promising me little nothings for the sake of making me focus on the larger matter at hand. My upper lip twitched. “It’s his own folly for not being present while we discuss these important issues.” I examined the map. “Can somebody explain our current status around our stations?”      Walsingham stepped forward. “Well, seeing as they’ve been sighted near the Lizard, from what I gather, then I believe we should disembark from Plymouth and pursue them. I can have word sent to them immediately or by the end of this meeting, Your Majesty.”      I stared at him. “How do you know that the Spanish have been sighted off the coast of the Lizard?”      Walsingham smirked at me, his eyes flashing with a playful twinkle. “Your Majesty, I am your spymaster. I know these things.” His smile suddenly disappeared, and became unusually casual forthwith. He cleared his throat with a shrug. “But realistically, the doors were left open just enough after that messenger barged in, so I was able to hear the more important information. You know, that poor messenger was limping, but he still made himself sprint.”      "Ah.“ I couldn’t tell if this was in acknowledgement of Walsingham’s former or latter statement. I felt bad for not believing the messenger when he said he was in pain.

One of the younger Councillors stepped forward.      "Excuse me, Your Highness, may I use the toilet?”      "No, you may not,“ I said, looking over at him as I sat down by the table. "I need the bathroom too, but you do not see me rushing off to use it.” I addressed everyone in the room. “So, gentlemen, I advise you all make yourselves comfortable, because nobody is leaving this room until we discuss everything.”

                                                         ~*~*~*~

Seven hours and many mental breakdowns later, the meeting finally had drawn to a close. Another one was scheduled for half past nine later that morning. We were all exhausted, all irritable (hence the mental meltdowns experienced by everyone), and I knew we would all be lethargic zombies by the time the next meeting came around. I doubted that any of us would be able to sleep well.      

     Lord Burghley approached me before I left. “You know, Your Majesty, I know we all had our moments back there, but you seem incredibly calm overall. I doubt that even any of us would be able to handle such situations so well…”      "Well, I did start to feel numb about halfway through the meeting,“ I quietly admitted, yawning afterwards. "But I managed to remain focused, and that’s all that matters.”      "Yes, I think that fifteen-minute toilet break three hours in was greatly appreciated by everyone.“      I laughed softly. "Yes, everyone seemed so much better after that. I’m so glad we brought food in afterwards, too. I think we really needed it.”      "Indeed,“ Burghley agreed. He rolled his shoulders back and stretched a little. "Anyway, goodnight, Your Majesty. Try your best to sleep well.”      I smiled meekly at him. “I shall try. Goodnight, William.”

I made my way to my bedchamber and closed the door behind me. I took off my wig and some of my jewellery. I wiped off most of my make-up. After battling my way out of my dress, I somehow managed to undo my corset and threw it across the other side of the bedchamber. I didn’t want to wake any of the ladies-in-waiting to help me. I was still wearing my chemise, but decided I was too tired to change into a nightdress. I walked over to the dress I was wearing, knelt down, and took a small stained-glass vial from one of the secret pockets. I stood up and headed over to the balcony. It was pitch black outside. Only hints of midnight blue and rich wine or aubergine purple tinged the skies that were covered mostly by charcoal clouds. One could barely make out many stars trying to outshine the darkness. A cool breeze blew gently by, causing my skin to form goosebumps.

I gazed down at the small, belladonna black vial of cherry seeds and deadly nightshade in my hand. I looked up at the heavens above me once again.      "Please, God, let us win.“

[iris-in-the-rain]

I put on Bill because it makes me happy and gods know, I need happy things right now.

Also, listening to Lord Burghley is crazy because all I hear is Choop talking 🤣